


Still Want You

by neptunedemon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Dark Flirting, Ficlet, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 02:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18956116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunedemon/pseuds/neptunedemon
Summary: Viktor meets a familiar face in the night. Unfortunately — or to his secret relief — they have unfinished business.





	Still Want You

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to try writing a little bit of Viktuuri vampire AU! Hope it's fun. ^^

Viktor feels his grip on the stake loosen.

It’s the one. He can’t be believe THIS is the one.

His mind tries to flash back to that night, to the darkness and proximity and the curl of coldly deft fingers down his bare chest, the pain against his —

He shakes his head. Can’t afford these thoughts now.

What did that one call himself? _Yuuri._ Fuck, why does he remember. He knows why, but still — WHY?

Viktor’s heart beats erratically. The pounding of it is too hard, even for nerves and adrenaline. _Yuuri._

“You,” he says in defiance of remembering the name. “It’s you.”

The thing that calls itself _Yuuri_ tilts his head with a smirk. He steps around Viktor, face leering, head tilted down. His face is masked in shadows that seem to pulls at his edges, begging him back into the dark corners of the room and the black beyond the gaping window.  

Viktor had been in this hotel before as a patron; it was elegant, regal, with esteemed art trimmed in gold-plated frames nailed up high, silk draperies that hung heavily across windows, and beds so thick with huge comforters and stuffed pillows that one risked suffocation just to lay in them.

He’d been called in by a report of vampires in the area. Someone had been attacked in the hotel. No casualties, just violence and fear.

All the typical gold and warmth has been sucked dry from this room; the night bruises the room with purple and grey shadows, and a late summer chill leaks in through the open window. The curtains bellow in the wind pushing inside while the bed watches in a lonely vigil. The walls catch the oblong shadow of _Yuuri_ as he circles Viktor, stalking him like prey.

Viktor IS prey.

But why does that knowledge light a match inside him? His insides feel cloaked in gunpowder. Rough and irritable and with the right shove this way or that, he’ll ignite this entire fucking hotel.

 _Wake up,_ he tells himself. Maybe the damned thing has him in some sort of hypnosis. Yuuri leers at him, teeth showing, and _hell,_ it’s terrifying, but he can't move.

“I knew you’d be the one to come tonight,” Yuuri says. His tone drips with a suggestiveness that shakes Viktor’s insides, threatening to blow everything apart. He frowns, ignoring the tension coiling inside him.

“You wanted me?”

Yuuri stops. So does Viktor. He realizes he’s between Yuuri and the window. Cornered.

“You know, don’t you?” he asks. “Don’t tell me...”

“Stop.”

Yuuri shakes his head; there’s an ounce of pity there, and Viktor clenches the stake in both hands. Can he do it? _Can he?_ He’s being cocky over his assumptions, so if Viktor just launched forward right now, he’d probably —

“Don’t tell me you forgot we need to finish what we started?”

The curtain shadows whip across the walls like frantic arms waving at Viktor to move, but he can’t, and instead he watches Yuuri catch his scent pouring into the room with a heavy inhale. His eyes close as he takes it in. Viktor almost chokes when Yuuri’s mouth parts to taste it.

His hands tremble. Then Yuuri’s eyes snap back open, wide and pupils wild, and his knees almost give out.

“Viktor.” His voice is raspy but carries like the wind is catching it and delivering words to Viktor’s ears. “Let me help you.”

A shiver curls down his spine. _No,_ Viktor lies to himself. The word is on the tip of his tongue but it’s a lie.

He wants help. He wants Yuuri’s help.

He squeezes his eyes shut, because he’s weak and helpless, and it’s a mistake — his senses are scrambled like they’ve been ever since that one night, and suddenly his chin is being lifted by familiar fingers. His eyes open.

Yuuri’s face, dangerously beautiful in the dim cold room, watches him closely with the eyes of a wild animal that somehow looks like it cares.

Cares? Fucking ridiculous. But —

“It won’t go away,” Yuuri whispers.

Viktor swallows. Yuuri’s eyes whip down to the sight of VIktor’s neck for only half a second before re-latching his gaze onto his own.

It’d been so hard since that night, where Viktor had been fooled into being wooed by a beautiful young man, bedded, blind to his seductions despite his training, until he felt something sharp latch onto his neck and had thrown up a fight. It was already far, far too late.

Yuuri injected himself like a drug that night.

_It won’t go away._

It wouldn’t, would it? The ache in the sun but with a remnant fear of the dark, the parch of his tongue but sandpaper feel of water, the way food smelled so good but made him vomit, the way his senses dazzled in and out of focus; this terrible half-way, this terrible pain to be wild and rampant weighed down by a moral obligation to his human heart.

“I didn’t care before,” Yuuri whispers with voice a desperate rasp, like the fact that he’s even giving Viktor a moment to not be devoured is a sword down his own throat, “I would’ve had you till dead. But seeing how you fight, and how — ” The hand on his chin slides to cup the side of his face. It’s so cold, a cold that Viktor pushes into before realizing it. “— how truly beautiful you are, even now. I want you by my side.”

A sound escapes Viktor’s throat that’s akin to a whimper. He knows this. Knew this when he fought him off the first time; he’d seen the change in the way Yuuri stared at him, eyes going from glinting hunger to glinting _want_ , and he’d known.

He’d known for so long now.

“I won’t let it hurt much,” Yuuri says like one final plea. Like he thinks appealing to humans’ fear of pain will be what finally convinces Viktor.

It sort of does, in a way.

The stake hits the carpet with a dull thud. Yuuri quirks a smile, thinking he figured him out.

“No.” The voracity of Viktor’s own voice surprises him. “Make it fucking hurt.”

Yuuri’s eyes blow wide with shock that’s surely rare for a vampire, and Viktor pushes him, letting his body divulge senselessly into the strength and wildness that’s been tugging like the sea’s ebb for days now. There’s a crash as they knock against a desk. Viktor kisses Yuuri, feels the sharp intake of breath he doesn’t need against his lips and then the immediate taste of Yuuri’s tongue.

Yuuri’s knees are on either side of his hips, tugging him in with withheld strength but Viktor can take MORE, even now, because he’s halfway and halfway is more than _nothing._ He greedily pushes a hand into Yuuri’s shirt to show him _more,_ and then the other finds the thick front of Yuuri’s pants to show him this too. Yuuri gasps in surprise against his mouth, breath eerily cool and dangerously good. He pulls back and his eyes lock with Viktor’s a moment. There’s a flash of something close to fear in them, but a good fear, the kind Viktor feels even now, and then he smirks.

“Yesss,” he groans, rolling his hips into Viktor, pushing himself flush against him. “You’re fucking incredible, Viktor.” He draws out his name like it's his newest prized possession. The next smirk shows sharp teeth, and he leans forward and puts his mouth against Viktor’s ear. “You’re sure?” The question doesn’t sound sincere, but rather like the confirmation of Viktor’s desire is something to revel in.

Viktor grabs his shoulders and knocks him harder against the wall behind the desk. Yuuri could throw him across the room even now, but he’s pliant and lets himself be crushed into Viktor like a doll. “Don’t make me wait anymore than you already have,” he growls.

There’s another crash as they knock the lamp off the desk. Light flickers and sprays across the room in flashing sparks, then dies out. The wind whips harder, and the curtains are applauding as they flap in the gusts behind them.

Yuuri presses forward, fangs bared and tongue exposed, and Viktor leans back. A hot chill trembles through him as he feels his mouth clamp around the previous wound. A hand of Yuuri’s shoves into his pants, sliding along him as he secures his teeth in him, and then both pain and pleasure hit like a lightning strike.

And finally, finally, everything inside of Viktor ignites.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/neptunedemon) | [tumblr](http://skateonme.tumblr.com/)


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